The artist was a perfectionist and witty, although a recluse. What's remarkable about his career, was that he, an un-married, male artist, was allowed backstage, to rehearsals and even to dressing rooms in the opera - to quietly sketch the goings-on. Apparently, it was entirely commonplace for "subscribers" to have such access during that time. How incredible that would be today!
His drawings and paintings made the mundane profound. (A reprint of) his 1875 oil on canvas La Classe de Danse hung in my grandma's spare room throughout my entire childhood. Back then, taking dance classes myself, I would stare at the painting and wish I was one of the ballerinas warming up in that studio. Degas' paintings chronicled the stretching, warming up and rehearsing of dance, almost never the performance of. These every day, fundamental dancers' rituals were made just as enticing, if not more, than the performance itself.
When my grandma moved to New Jersey a few years ago, I was bequeathed La Classe de Danse, which now hangs in my hallway. I can't count how many times I've stared at the painting and wondered what the girl sitting on the piano was scratching at behind her, or what the dance instructor (if that's who he is) is telling his dancers, or how a cute little pup was allowed in the dance studio. It's a rich, lovely painting, and while simple in subject, very intricate in detail.
I'm afraid a trip to D.C. is not in my near future, so I won't make it to the exhibit, but here's hoping it travels to New York! NPR featured an enlightening article in its Arts & Life section detailing the exhibit (and Degas) if you're interested in further reading. The exhibit runs through January.
